


winter's night

by selwyn



Category: Naruto
Genre: Gen, M/M, cuddling for warmth, just some some goofing on a cold night
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-09
Updated: 2019-11-09
Packaged: 2021-01-25 19:54:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21361789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/selwyn/pseuds/selwyn
Summary: baby, it's cold outside. hashirama knows how to warm a body up.
Relationships: Senju Hashirama/Uchiha Madara
Comments: 4
Kudos: 116





	winter's night

Madara stirred in his futon, squinting into the velvet darkness of his tent. It was a moonless winter’s night in the Land of Fire and it was freezing despite his best attempts to warm up. Even with the glowing campfire and the hot waterskin tucked next to his feet, it’d taken him hours to sleep until a noise woke him up.

“Uhn?” Madara asked the darkness sleepily. If it was something dangerous, he would’ve snapped awake immediately. But his senses told him he had no reason for caution.

“It’s cold,” said the voice of Hashirama, somewhere close to Madara’s futon, and he groaned, dropping his head back onto his pillow to huddle deeper into his blankets. It was cold. This was why he hated running any kind of solo mission during the winter. It was always too cold to sleep alone. Not even the chance to meet Hashirama away from their clans was quite enough to make it all worth it.

“Go ‘way.”

“No.” Madara felt his blankets shift as Hashirama slipped in next to him. It immediately brought a rush of coldness that made Madara curl up even harder and thus left him in no position to fend off Hashirama’s brazen approach. He hissed to express his disapproval. Honestly. Invading his futon when it was this cold? If he kicked him out into the snow right now, no one would blame him.

“Hashirama…”

“You’re so warm,” Hashirama said into his hair, his chest pressing up against Madara’s back, and one of his arms snaking around his chest. Madara considered kicking him but then he paused. Hashirama was pretty warm, actually. His body, thick and heavy in all the right ways, was built like a tree. He was good at retaining heat in that big body. “Move over.”

Madara obliged, suddenly more interested in the prospect of sharing his futon.

“Are you wearing your mantle?”

“It was cold,” Madara muttered.

“Take it off.”

“I’ll take you off.”

“You haven’t,” Hashirama pointed out, sneaking a hand around and up his mantle. Madara squirmed but didn’t fight it. Hashirama’s palm was as warm as the rest of him – it did a better job of keeping him warm than the cooling waterskin next to his feet, which he kicked out. He leaned back too, pressing more of his back up against Hashirama, and sighed while Hashirama made a noise at all the hair now stabbing his face.

“I’ve been thinking,” Hashirama said after a short pause.

“That’s new.”

“Don’t be mean.” Hashirama pinched his nipple. Madara yelped and elbowed him. Hashirama pinched him again and enough was enough – Madara twisted around to push him out but Hashirama simply tightened his arm around him until he was squeezed up against his chest. Instead of embarrassing himself by kicking, Madara settled in with a grunt. It wasn’t too bad, actually. Aside from his toes poking out the blanket, he was quite comfy.

“As I was saying. Our village should have a school. To teach kids, I mean.”

Madara opened his eyes, disbelieving. “Now?” he demanded. “I want to sleep.”

“Just think about it,” Hashirama wheedled. “Learning how to fight is good and all, but they should know how to read and write too.”

“Yes, yes, a school. Good.” Madara pushed his face back into Hashirama’s chest as a silent signal for him to shut up.

Hashirama didn’t take the hint. “And they should learn math. And history. Like people in the capital do.”

Madara really wanted to kick Hashirama out. But he also didn’t, because Hashirama was right. He’d never really liked to think about it much, the discrepancy between them and the nobles in everything like food. Like education. Madara wasn’t stupid. He knew he wasn’t stupid. But it could be hard, sometimes, to not feel stupid when there was a character he couldn’t read in some book because he’d never been taught it and no one else in the clan knew it because they’d never been taught it either. So Hashirama was right. It was just that he could be right when it was the daytime and Madara wasn’t busy trying to not freeze his toes off.

“We could get teachers,” he said, instead of encouraging Hashirama to shut up. “From the capital, or wherever they come from. Take them. Or pay them. I don’t know. They teach some of our clansmen, so they can teach the kids. That way, we won’t have to rely on the capital.”

“You’re right.” Hashirama beamed down at him and Madara smiled against his chest. He couldn’t help it. It felt good to talk about this stuff, no matter how impossible it was, because it was their thing. Their little secret, just like how this was their little secret. “We could also add -”

“Ah, no.” Madara clamped his hand over Hashirama’s mouth before he said anything else. “That’s enough. Talk tomorrow. Sleeping now.”

Hashirama licked his palm. Madara recoiled instantly and rubbed the spit off on Hashirama while he chuckled, the bastard.

“Gross.”

“You should’ve seen it coming.”

“_Gross_.”

“I thought you liked being licked.” Hashirama squeezed him and Madara wheezed indignantly.

“Not now!”

“You really hate the cold, huh?”

“I’m dumping you outside,” Madara muttered warningly, pointedly turning around. 

He felt Hashirama scoot closer, felt his face press into the back of his neck. Felt him kiss him there. Goosebumps unrelated to the cold immediately raced up Madara’s arms. Part of him was interested. There was a lot of warming up possible if he just turned around and caught Hashirama’s mouth with his. But then it would be messy and the thought of getting out of the blankets to handle that made Madara’s skin crawl, as did the thought of just _sleeping_ in their filth. Choices, choices.

“Madara…”

“Not in this weather.” Madara closed his eyes, mind made up. He wasn’t going to let his dick make his decisions for him, no matter how tempting they were in the moment. He would be miserable as soon as the heat died down and the cold wind hit their sweaty bodies.

Hashirama sighed mournfully but didn’t argue. Instead, he settled down with his breath wafting over the back of Madara’s neck, their legs comfortably tangled up. Madara was nearly asleep until he felt something tickle his nose. He opened his eyes and saw flowers poking around his tent. Mostly wisteria, but he spied a few lilies poking around the soft frothy petals. Very unseasonal that.

“Hashirama.”

“Mm?”

“Stop growing.”

“Ah? What do you – oh. Sorry.” The flowers sheepishly retreated.

Madara settled back down. “You really need to manage that habit.”

“So demanding.”

“_Com_manding.”

“_Come_, yeah.”

Madara snorted and Hashirama snickered into his hair. Madara turned around and followed suit, snickering until they were both breathless, grinning and flushed.


End file.
